


your train of thought will be altered

by wariangle



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-21
Updated: 2014-07-21
Packaged: 2018-02-09 19:37:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1995321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wariangle/pseuds/wariangle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alison is back in her childhood home after college, wondering what's left to do for her now, when her father brings his new deputy home for breakfast.</p>
            </blockquote>





	your train of thought will be altered

**Author's Note:**

> never thought I'd be writing soccercop, but here we are.

Every morning, Alison Doyle wakes up at 7:30 am, takes off her sleeping mask and goes down into the kitchen to have breakfast (scrambled eggs and cheese on whole-wheat bread with a glass of freshly pressed orange juice, diluted with half a cup of water). After that she showers, brushes her teeth and her hair, does her face and puts on the clothes she picked out the night before. It is important to start the day in an ordered manner, setting a precedent for the rest of the day, and thus she does not like having her morning routine disturbed.

She is in her pink pajamas, eating her scrambled eggs and cheese on whole-wheat bread in the kitchen when her father walks in, followed by a young woman, both of them in full police uniform, despite the fact that her father really has a desk job. At least on paper.

"Morning, Ali," he says and ruffles her hair as if she is still six years old.

"Good morning," she says and straightens in her seat, wishing she was dressed under the curious gaze of the young police officer. "What are you doing home, father?"

"I am showing my new deputy around," Dad says, patting the woman heartily on the shoulder. "This is deputy Elizabeth Childs and she's fresh out of the academy. We needed some new blood, so she was assigned here. Prettiest officer on the force, huh?" He laughs.

Child grimaces, but Dad doesn't notice, just pats her forcefully on the shoulder again.

"I invited her for some real Doyle breakfast before we start working on her first case," Dad continues. He turns to Childs, "This is my daughter Alison."

"Hello," Beth Childs says with a nod towards Alison.

Alison clears her throat. "Nice to meet you, officer Childs," she says.

"Beth," officer Child corrects her.

"Where's your mother?" Dad asks, grabbing two cups off the rack and filling them with coffee.

"She is over at the Hutchinson's," Alison says, pushing her half-eaten breakfast away from her. "She's helping them planning the menu for Aynsley's wedding."

The words sends a stab of jealousy and sadness through her. She and Donnie had been together since high school – she was the one who should have gotten married first. At any rate, she should have been there, helping preparing for Aynsley's big day. But slowly and quietly, Alison drifted out of contact with all her old friends and now she's flitting about Scarborough like a ghost, barely greeting people she once used to share every hour of the day with.

"Oh," Dad says, indicates that Beth should sit and plunks the coffee cup down in front of her before sitting down himself. "Would you mind making us some breakfast then, pumpkin?"

Alison glances at the clock on the kitchen wall. 7.51. She should be in the shower in two minutes. She exhales forcefully in a way that insn't quite a sigh. "Fine," she says and opens the fridge to get the eggs.

"Is there something I can do to help?" Childs ask. She's taken off her jacket and hung it over the back of her chair. The thin fabric over her grey shirt stretches over her arms and across her collarbones.

"No," Dad says, without looking up from the files he has spread out over the kitchen table. "Ali's got it well in hand and we have a case to crack, Childs."

"It's fine," Alison says and begins whisk the eggs a tad more feriousiously than strictly necessary.

  


Alison makes them each an veggie omelet, refills their coffee, and goes upstairs to take her shower. She dries her hair, brushes her teeth and puts on make-up. Stepping back into her room, she puts on her pink jeans and is about to pull on her white blouse when the door opens. She screeches and tries to cover herself up with the sheer fabric and Childs stare at her for a second.

"Sorry," she says. "I was looking for the bathroom."

"Well, this is _my_ room," Alison says, furious from embarassment. She straightens, still keeping the blouse thightly pressed against her chest. "It's the door to the left."

"Thank you," Childs says and closes the door.

"Do I wear a big _kick me_ sign on my back?" Alison hisses to no one as she yanks on the blouse and buttons it up with sharp, snapping movements.

  


Despite the morning she's had, she is on time at the library. Alison is a meticulous planner and would not in a hundred years let other people's idiocy or bad timing interfer with her schedule.

"Good morning, mrs Terry," she says as she unlocks the library door.

She has tried to explain to mrs Terry that she is allowed to take books with her home, but the old lady unerringly shows up at 9.30 sharp every morning to read detective novels. Alison has taken to keeping the one she's currently reading behind the counter after mrs Terry leaves, so no one else will check it out.

Mrs Terry walks slowly over to the detective shelf, where Alison has just replaced the copy of _Gone Girl_ by Gillian Flynn for her.

Alison begins to sort books that has been newly checked in, humming quietly to herself. She has been working at the town library since she returned from college a few months back. It's only for a few times a week and doesn't pay enough to actually live on, but together with volunteering as instructor for children's soccer and figure skating, she's keeping busy.

This wasn't how she had planned it would go, though. It had all been so easy, all laid out before her: she would go to college, get a degree she would never have any use for, marry Donnie Hendrix, and start her life. They would have kids (three of them) and a beautiful house with a garden and a hobby room for her in the basement. It was what she has been moving torwards her entire life.

Instead, she moved back home, took the half-time job at the library, and spends most of her time puttering around her childhood home. She isn't even quite sure why she broke up with Donnie. She didn't lose sight of the clear-cut image of their future life together in her head, but every time it appeared in her head, she got the inexplicable urge to cry.

Her last year of collage passed in a fog of alcohol and little helpers. She graduated anyway, of course, but afterward she had somewhat of a... dip. Her parents threw her into rehab and expected everything to move on just as it had, just as it was supposed to, the moment she came out of there. It hadn't.

"Yo, Doyle," Sarah calls as she walks into the library dragging a guy with a flimsy beard behind her, interrupting Alison's reverie. "How ya doin'?"

"No, Sarah," Alison says and puts down the book she was holding with a thud. "You are not allowed in here to _make out behind the geography section_." She hisses the last part, because mrs Terry has a weak heart and she doesn't need to know what kind of shenanigans people sometimes has the audacity to get up to in the library.

"Chill, Ali," Sarah drawls. "We're here to, uh, loan books."

"Did Mrs. S lock you out again?" Alison asks exasperately. Sarah doesn't even have a library card. "Will you never learn?"

"Hey, mind your own bloody business," Sarah says. "Cal here's actually loaning a book."

Alison doesn't believe them, not for a second. "No canoodling!" she calls after them as they disappear among the stacks.

Sarah is the sister of Felix Dawkins, the then-boyfriend of Ramon, Alison's then– ... provider. She and Felix had become friends, but Alison would have kept far away if she had known that he and his _lawless_

sister were such a package deal.

She takes her phone out of her pocket, even though she isn't supposed to use it during working hours. Glancing surreptously around, she texts, _Please come retrive your sister from the library_.

All she gets in response from Felix is, _HOT DATE_.

  


Alison is allowed to have her breakfast in peace the next day, but for dinner her father brings Beth and a whole pile of files that he spreads out over the dinner table, despite Mom's protests of "Leave the police work at the station, dear!"

Alison had the afternoon off so she has made the dinner - chicken casserole with baked potatoes and salad, and she serves it over the talk of her father's recent investigation.

"What I can't understand," Dad says to Beth, "is what's wrong with these burglars. They seem to be able to pick any lock and dismantle any security system. They leave no prints behind and have apparently done their homework on the people they target. They knew the Petersons were out of town last week. And still they, along with the valuables, steal stuff like feather boas, porcelain figurines and cheap jewellery? They stole a hat, for god's sake!"

"Perhaps some kind of inside joke?" Beth suggests. She digs into the casserole and chews noisily. "Some kind of dare?"

"But look at the M.O. – it's all so, pardon me for saying so, professional. These guys knows what they are doing. Why would they risk discovery by raiding mrs Peterson's closet?"

"For the hell of it?" Beth says, drawing an annoyed look from Alison's mother. She doesn't notice. "I mean, they obviously know how good they are. Perhaps they're just showing off."

"Perhaps we should get a dog," Mom says. "For extra security. Oh, Ali, that reminds me - could you take the neighborhood watch for me tonight? I had forgotten about book club night when I volunteered for today."

Dad looks up from his work at that. "I'm not sure I want my Ali out when these thugs are running around," Dad says, at the same times as Alison says, "Fine."

"Well, if they are running around we need to catch them, right?" Mom says.

"I think catching them should be left to us," Dad says. "Not Ali."

"It's fine, Dad," Alison repeats. "I'm not going to be the only one out there."

Dad grumbles, but says no more.

"This was really good," Beth says, pointing to the casserole with her fork.

"Oh, yes, it's Nana's old recipe. It's very good," Mom says. "Ali always makes it little too salty."

"I really liked it," Beth says to Alison.

"Thank you," she replies and clears her throat. She rises from her chair. "Is everyone done?"

She and her mother clean the table before making coffee. Mom brings an apple pie out of the freezer and heats it hurriedly in the micro wave.

"It's get all stuffy," she complains, "but it will have to do."

Beth seems to appreciate it - she eats heartily and asks for seconds.

"It is rather on the heavy side," Mom says.

Beth devours her second gigantic slice. Alison eats half a piece.

Alison is in charge of clean-up, but as she fills the sink with water, Beth walks into the kitchen. She puts down her used cup on the counter and rolls up the arms of her red sweater. "Let me help," she says.

"Oh, no," Alison says, turning away from the way the tendons in her arms flex under the sharp kitchen light. "You're a guest."

"It's the least I can do. For the food, I mean," Beth says and joins Alison at the sink. "Here, I can wash it. It's better you dry it since you know where everything goes."

"Thank you," Alison says stiffly and moves aside.

"You're great at cooking," Beth says. She begins with washing the glasses.

"It's nothing," Alison says, wringing the wash cloth between her hands to have something to do with them.

"No, you are," Beth insists. "Although, admittedly I mostly live off pizza and thai food."

"I thought the police academy required good physique," Alison says. Beth has good physique - she's lean but looks strong. Steady, as if nothing but her own will could get her to move. A good trait in a police officer.

"Protein shakes," Beth says and grins.

"I see," Alison says as she dries off the final glass and opens the cupboard to put them back. "You can bring home some leftovers, if you want."

"I wasn't actually fishing for more food," Beth says. "But thank you - it's greatly appreciated."

Alison fills their biggest Tupperwares with food, giving Beth enough to last her at least two days and the remainder of the pie, and almost feels embarrased by Beth's gratitude as she presses the jars into her hands.

"It's nothing," she says again.

  


Alison checks her whistle, pepper spray, phone every three minutes as she walks briskly through the darkened neighbourhood, sweeping her flashlight from side to side. The night seems calm, but as she turns around to head home, she walks smack into something. Or rather two, black-clad, masked some _ones_.

"Bloody hell!" one mutters just as Alison opens her mouth to scream at the top of her lungs.

"... _Felix_?"

"Alison?!" Felix pulls off his balaclava, hand going up to drag through his ruffled hair. His face is white in the night and his eyes wide with shock.

"What the fuck are you doing, man?" the other shape says. "Showing your fucking face?"

"She already knows me, pea-brain," Felix says.

"What are you doing?" Alison hisses, hand clutching her neck.

"Unburdening the good people of Scarborough of their wordly possessions," Felix replies nonchantly. "It's a community service, really."

"So you are the ones resposible for the break-ins? Felix!"

"You won't tell on us, will you, Alison?" Felix says.

"My father is the _captain of the precinct_!" Alison tugs nervously at the whistle. "You can't put me in this position, Felix!"

"Don't get hysterical, dude," the other guy says, and Alison's gaze snaps to him, pony-tail swishing behind her.

"I just found two burglar's in my neighboorhoud, one of which is my _friend_ ," she snaps and points a finger at him in warning. "You just be thankfully I haven't given you away yet."

"Whatever," he says. "We need to get out of here, Fee-Fee."

"Don't call me that, Tony," Felix says. "Alison, promise me you won't tell anyone."

"Why are you even doing this?"

Felix eyes cut to the other guy - Tony - for a brief second. "We need the money, okay? I am a straving artist who really likes food and drink."

"And 'cause it's like stealing candy from children," Tony supplies. "These security systems are a fucking joke."

"I won't tell if you stop," Alison concludes, even though the thought of being complicit to a crime makes her stomach turn.

"Sure, yeah," Felix says unconvincingly. "Absolutely." He leans forward and plasters a kiss against her cheek. "Love ya, Ali."

Even as they scurry down the street and out of sight, laden with valuables, Alison cannot quite understand that she lets them go. What if her father finds out?

What if Beth finds out?

  


The hour just before closing is always slow at the library. Today, Alison wishes it would go even more slow than usual so she can avoid the rain pouring down outside. She slept badly and forgot to bring an umbrella into work, despite the already overcast sky.

She is walking around moving misplaced books back to their correct spot when the door is pushed open and Beth walks in, folding a dripping umbrella closed. She's out of uniform, her hair out of her costumary braid and falling freely to her shoulders.

She looks surprised but happy upon seeing Alison. "Alison, hi! Do you work here?"

"Only part-time," Alison says. "Is there anything I could do for you?"

"Uh, I don't know. I just needed something new to read."

"Well, then you are at the right place," Alison says and Beth laughs.

"Yeah, I suppose I am."

"Do you like detective novels?" Alison asks, because its the only thing anyone seems to read in this town.

"Not really," Beth says. "I get enough of that during working hours. I'll just take a look around."

"You do that," Alison and goes back to sorting books.

It doesn't take long for Beth to track down a couple of books that catches her attention and she brings them to Alison behind the desk.

"Shit, I just realised I don't have a library card here," Beth says. "Do you have time to fix one? When do you close?"

Alison glances at the watch. They close in five minutes and normally she would ask the person to come back in the morning. "It's fine," she says instead. "Perhaps the rain will have stopped if I stay over a bit."

"Yeah, it's really pouring out there. You don't have an umbrella?"

Alison's pony tail swishes as she turns to the computer to bring up the membership form. "I forgot it," she says. "Full name?"

She enters all Beth's information quickly and gives her the brand new card. "Your loans are registered," she says. "We charge $5 for late returns, with $1 added for every day the book is not back."

"Thank you," Beth says. She puts the card in her wallet and grabs her books. "By the way, do you want a ride home?"

"I need to close up," Alison says.

"I'll wait," Beth says.

"I don't want to be any trouble."

"You're not."

Beth sits down on a couch and opens one of her newly-loaned books so there is little Alison can do but close up as she sits there reading.

"You ready?" Beth asks as Alison turns off the lights and she nods.

She locks up, and then she and Beth have to squeeze together beneath Beth's umbrella to walk the few yards to her car. Alison can hardly breathe at the feel of Beth's firm body pressed against hers.

"So, did you see anything last night?" Beth says once they're inside the car and Alison almost jumps in her seat.

"What? Why?" she says. Her fingers find the gold chain around her neck, twisting the cross hanging from it.

Beth sends her an odd look. "You were out on the neighborhood watch thing, right?"

"Oh," Alison says and sighs in relief. "Uh, no, no. No, I didn't see much. In fact, I didn't see anything at all. Nothing suspicious, I mean."

"That's a shame," Beth says.

"Mhm," Alison says, her voice slightly too shrill in the confined compartment of the car.

The drive is short - at a brisk walk, it takes Alison fifteen minutes to get to the library - so it doesn't take long before Beth stops outside the Doyle house. The rain is still hammering down.

"Oh, no," Alison says when she sees her door open and a familiar figure step out on the porch.

"What?" Beth says, leaning across the dashboard to see.

"It's Donnie," Alison says. "I don't feel like talking to Donnie tonight."

"Seems like he's leaving," Beth says. She is close enough that her breath stirs the small hairs next to Alison's ear.

"Yes," Alison says, "but if he sees me he will stay and then Mom will give me her hopeful looks, and then he will stay forever."

"Not if you don't want him to," Beth says, like it's that easy. Like her mother didn't expect her daughter to marry first, long before Aynsley. Like Donnie doesn't give her those sad puppy eyes whenever he sees her. Like the whole world isn't holding its breath, waiting for her to become mrs Donnie Hendrix.

"Come on," Beth says and unbuckles her belt. "I want to thank your mother for her hospitality yesterday."

Alison sidles out of the car and they walk together up the path to the house.

"Mrs Doyle," Beth says warmly to Mom. "I just wanted to thank you for dinner yesterday. It was a pleasure."

Mom purses her lips, but there is little she can do: between Beth introducing herself to Donnie and once more saying thanks for dinner and Donnie standing there looking lost, Alison slips into the house and when Beth turns to leave she simply brings Donnie with her, him lumbling after her down to the street.

  


Alison has been ignoring Felix for days. An unpleasant mix of shame and guilt unfurls in the pit of her stomach at the very thought of him, so she solves it by avoiding him.

 _PICK UP THE BLOODY PHONE OR I SIC MY CRAZY SISTER ON YOU_ , he texts and Alison sighs, but accepts his eventual call.

"Stop calling me, Felix - I do not consort with criminals," she hisses into the phone.

"Alllli," Felix drawls and he is clearly drunk, or high, or both. "Come out with us tonight. It's me, my darling Tony, Sarah and her hunk of a man. _Umph_. I was kidding!" he yells to someone else.

"No thank you, Felix," Alison says. "I do not..."

"Consort with criminals, yeah, yeah." She can all but hear him rolling his eyes. "But you might meet _someone_."

" _Felix_!"

Once, Alison and Felix got spectacularly drunk on vodka in her dorm room and she confessed that she might have a teeny tiny thing for girls as well. She knows he will never tell anyone, but he keeps making _suggestions_.

He laughs. "Sorry, babe. But it'll be fun!"

"I am quite content here, thank you very much," Alison says.

"But I missssss you!"

"Well, I might have time to meet up for coffee next week," Alison says.

Felix laughs again. "Coffee. Hardcore, Doyle. Well, need to go now. Talk to you later."

"Bye, Felix."

  


Her parents have gone away for the weekend for aunt Mary's birthday party, an event Alison managed to get out of thanks to her job. She is looking forward to a long evening spent soaking in the bath with a magazine when there is a knock on the door.

It's Beth.

Alison blushes and wraps the sash of her bathroom tighter around herself.

"Hello," she says.

"Hi, sorry for bothering you," Beth says. She holds up a brown folder. "I have some files for your father."

"He isn't home," Alison says, "Not until Monday, but you can just leave them here, if you want."

"Oh," Beth says. "He said he would be home all night, so..."

"He was unwilling to leave with the current robberies going on," Alison says. "But Mon persuaded him."

"I see," Beth says. "You want some company?"

"Yes, I... Yes, why not," Alison stammers, all thoughts of the bath forgotten. "Come on in."

"Have you eaten?" Beth asks, bending down to untie her shoes. "We could order pizza."

"We have lasagna in the fridge," Alison says. She made some last night to bring to work, but there is a lot left.

"Even better," Beth says with a smile as she straightens.

"I'll..." Alison looks down and realises that she's wearing nothing but her bathrobe and slippers. "I'll go change," she mumbles and flees up the stairs.

They end up in front of the TV, eating lasagna while watching some action flick Beth chooses. Alison doesn't much like it and it seems Beth doesn't either, because she keeps talking, asking Alison everything from what she studied at college to what kind of books she likes to read.

It's nice.

Alison cleans off the table but leaves the dishes in the sink and makes popcorn. Beth puts the bowl between them on the cushion and leans on her elbow against the back of the couch as they talk, the TV running ignored in the background.

It is well past midnight when Beth gets up to leave and Alison is almost dizzy with tiredness, but there is also a deep-seated happiness inside of her, coaxed forth by Beth's company.

Beth hesitates on the threshold. They're close together and Alison notices that they are almost of the exact same height.

"See you," Beth says and then she takes one step closer and her lips touch Alison's so softly she is sure she imagines it at first.

Beth's hand curls around the back of her neck and Alison makes a sound as her bottom lip is teased open and Beth's tongue touches hers, briefly, before she pulls back.

"Bye," she says with a smile and leaves Alison standing in the doorway, absently touching her mouth with a finger, her mind a careful blank.

  


Alison meets Felix up for coffee in the city and he's wearing Mrs Robert's cerise scarf wrapped around his neck, but Alison barely notices. The moment they sit down, she blurts, "Beth kissed me."

It takes a while to bring Felix up to speed. She tells him about Beth, her father's new deputy, she tells him about the dishes, the library, that red sweater and last night. The _kiss_.

"Oh, Felix, I don't know what to do," Alison says.

"If she's as hot as you said, I'd suggest fucking her bloody brains out," Felix says.

"I said beautiful," Alison says. "She's so beautiful, Felix."

"So, call her," he says. "Go on a date or whatever. Get married, get a house and lots of babies. Mow the lawn. Or whatever suburban people do."

"I can't," Alison says. "I can never see her again. Help me come up with a way to get her transferred to another station." She's already grabbing her bag to get her notepad and coloured pens when Felix stops her with a hand on her wrist.

"Alison, you will have to deal with this. You like this girl and..."

"No!" Alison says. "No, no, no. No, Felix. My father will have a heart attack and my mother will kill me. And just imagine the scandal!"

"Yes, you will shock the whole neighbourhood, I'm sure," Felix says dryly. "Okay, I'll make you an offer: if you deal with this - in whatever manner you want to, but you have to deal with it - me and Tony will find a new neighbourhood to rob. How's that?"

Alison glares at him.

  


Wednesday night Mom has bridge night at Mrs Roberts and Dad invites Beth over to watch hockey and drink the obligatory glasses of whiskey. Alison greets her as she passes the living room, but she has no interest in sitting down with them so all she gets to see of Beth is the occasional glimpse, or hear an occasional laugh or loud woop before Beth is gone again.

Thursday morning she shows up at the library and she is clearly dwadling among the stacks until Alison is the one standing behind the counter before she returns one of the novels she borrowed the other day.

"We have a self-checkout machine over there," Alison says before Beth has time to open her mouth. "It's more effective and time-saving for both visitors and staff.”

"Hey." Beth puts her hand on Alison's as Alison moves to take the book. It's a light touch - easy to pull away from. Alison doesn't. "Perhaps I got a bit carried away the other night. Perhaps I read the situation wrong. I'm not quite sure. But I do know that I like you, so this is me asking you out." She says it quickly, almost bluntly, as if she just wants it out.

"Oh," Alison says.

"Would you like that?" Beth says.

And even though she shouldn't, even though everything would be so much easier if she didn't, she says "Yes," and watches as a slow, beautiful smile lights up Beth's face.

"Friday?"

"Friday is good," Alison says. "Just..." She hesitates, clears her throat. "Somewhere in the city would be good."

"Somewhere in the city it is," Beth says.

  


Alison wears the yellow dress she bought on sale a year ago and which has hung unused in the wardrobe ever since with a white cardigan over it and puts up her hair. She proceeds to spend the next thirty minutes before Beth is coming to pick her up freaking out about whether she's underdressed or overdressed.

 _Remember: nice girls cum on the first dat_ e, Felix texts her and he isn't _helping_.

Alison meets Beth at the end of her street. Beth is wearing a form-fitting grey dress and Alison almost stumbles at the sight of her as she climbs into the car.

"Hi," Beth says.

"Hi," Alison says.

"You look beautiful," Beth says and Alison wants to say, _You too, you're the most beautiful thing I have ever see_ n, but the words get caught in her throat, which is probably just as well.

Her nose bumps into Beth's as she clumsily reaches over the gear stick to kiss her. She pulls back a little, tilts her head and tries again. They're still on Alison's street, clearly visible to anyone walking by or glancing out a window, but she doesn't care as Beth's hand cups her jaw, guiding their lips into a slow, searing kiss.

The kiss ends and Beth leans back in her seat. "Time to go?"

Alison nods.

Beth takes her to an Italian place and even though Alison spends the entire meal worrying about getting pasta sauce on her dress, it is a perfect evening.

"This is a nice place," Alison says, taking a sip of wine. She shouldn't, really, but tonight she feels that she can have one glass and leave it at that.

"Yeah," Beth agrees. "I'm here practically all the time. I live over on Mariner Terrace." She points vaguely eastward to indicate where her apartment is.

"I didn't know you lived so close," Alison says.

Beth looks down on her plate where she swivels some pasta around her fork. "I was going to invite you over for brownies afterward, but I am apparently so shit at baking I can't even pull off the store-bought mix kind."

"Brownies?" Alison says. "Brownies are easy."

That is how she ends up in Beth's surprisingly well-stocked kitchen making brownies at eleven pm in the evening.

"Why do you have all this stuff if you never bake?" Alison asks, weighing butter on the scale.

"I aspire to be a better human being," Beth says. "One day, I will eat home-cooked food every day of the week, bake my own bread and fly up and touch the sun."

Making the batter is quick work, but as Alison pours it into the form, Beth steps up behind her, slipping one hand warmly around her waist and the other into the batter.

"Don't!" Alison says, but Beth has already gotten away with her finger coated in brownie batter and she licks it of with a satisfied noise. She moves in to kiss Alison, but she slips out of her arms.

"I don't like messes," she says, grabs the form and pop it in the oven. She puts the timer on twenty five minutes.

"Sorry," Beth says.

"That's fine," Alison says. They clean off the counter in silence and Alison is suddenly feeling sick, her dinner sitting uncomfortably heavy in her stomach. _Why do you have to be such a neat freak, Alison_?

"Hey," Beth says when they're done. "I'm sorry," she repeats.

"No," Alison says, waving it away. "Don't worry about it. I'm just being... Alison."

"Don't say that like it's a bad thing." Gently, Beth takes Alison's hands in hers. "I like Alison."

"I..." Alison clears her throat. "I like Beth. Like you, I mean."

They make out like teenagers in the kitchen, Beth pressed up against the counter and Alison against her, the muscles in Beth's back moving and shifting underneath her gripping hands.

When the timer chimes, they part abruptly and look around confusingly before remembering the sweets. Beth hands her an oven mitt and Alison grabs the form.

Impatient, Beth starts cutting them up long before they are cool and when she takes one, half of it remains stuck to the pan and the other half falls apart in her hands. She feeds a bite to Alison, who barely even stops to consider how unhygenic it is, before accepting it, and kisses her again, the taste of chocolate heavy and seductive between them.

Beth's fingers pull the strap of Alison's dress from her shoulder and eager, burning kisses follow in its wake, down her throat, her shoulder, the plane of her breastbone. The dress slips down further and Beth teases her breast out of her bra, enclosing the nipple in her mouth. Alison gasps at the wet heat, arching into it. Grabbing hold of Beth's ass, she presses her closer and makes an impatient noise when they don't line up properly with Beth bent down.

She hoists herself up on the counter - hoping Beth wiped it down so she won't end up with chocolate stains on her dress - and spreads her legs around Beth, aligning them perfectly together. The fabric of Beth's dress is intriguingly scratchy against the insides of her thighs and Alison is so wet and aching that merely the brush of Beth's groin against her has her struggling to breathe properly.

Beth smiles and reaches up to kiss her, gentle fingers letting down Alison's hair. Her lips move to Alison's ear and she whispers, "I want to eat you out."

Nodding shakily, Alison pulls Beth in for another kiss, this one hungry and demanding, before Beth drops down to her knees. Without much preamble, she pulls Alison's dress up, her underwear down, and...

" _Holy fishsticks_ ," Alison gasps, head falling back, as Beth licks into her, tongue sliding against her, slick and hot. Her hands pushes Alison's dress up further, nails digging into the soft flesh of her thighs. Alison grabs hold of Beth's head with one hand, holding more than guiding. Her underwear are uncomfortably tangled around her ankles, but she barely notices, lost in pleasure and the long, electrifying strokes of Beth's tongue.

Beth pulls back to take a breath and glances up at Alison, lips and chin shining with slick. Alison has never before felt so _nasty_ \- she's having sex in a _kitchen_.

It is so, so good and over quickly; Alison's thighs tightening around Beth as she comes with a cry.

Beth rises to her feet and they kiss again, Beth's hands firm on Alison's hips as she slides unsteadily down from the counter. Beth leads her into her bedroom and they undress each other in front of the bed, slowly and intent on learning every inch of skin revealed. There is a row of scars on Beth's upper arm, almost at her shoulder, and Alison doesn't comment, doesn't touch them, but the sight of them both saddens her and makes her feel a surge of affection, of closeness, to Beth. They are not so different, the two of them, after all.

Beth's pillowcases doesn't match her coverlet, but Alison cares more for how Beth looks spread out atop the bedding, the way the green contrasts her skin so beautifully. The faint, yellowish light of the bedside lamp spreads shadows over Beth's breast and ribs, which Alison traces - first with her fingers, then with her tongue.

This time it lasts longer, long into the night. Afterward, Beth wraps Alison up in her arms and Alison leans back against her, pressing her ear against her chest to hear the beat of her heart. She sucks in her stomach as Beth's hands passes over it, her nakedness suddenly all too palpable.

She forces herself to put those thoughts aside, to melt completely into Beth's embrace.

"We forgot about the brownies," she says suddenly, because they left them out in the open and they will get dry...

Beth kisses her shoulder, the nape of her neck. "Let's have them for breakfast," she says.

Alison will do no such thing, but even so she puts the brownies out of her mind and falls asleep to the sound of Beth's breathing and the feel of her hand caressing slowly along her arm.

  


Alison is rudely woken by a loud ringing noise. She burrows into the closest thing she can find to keep out the sound, but it starts to move, rolling away from her.

"Hello?" she hears Beth's voice says. "Yeah, no, I'm awake. Oh, shit. Yeah, yeah. Sure. I'll be there."

The mattress dips as Beth throws herself back down. "Hey," she says and Alison feels fingers brushing her hair out of her face and soft kisses pressed against her cheek. "I have to go into work - there's been some complicated traffic accident and they need all hands on deck.”

Alison opens her eyes. “Traffic accident?”

"Yeah." Beth's touches grow more daring - she finds the weak spot on Alison's throat with her mouth and her hand pass ever so briefly over her breasts. "Fuck, I don't have time for this," she mutters, sounding regretful. "I need a shower."

So does Alison, but there isn't time. She pulls on her underwear still all slick down there, feeling dirty at the thought of spending the entire day at the library with the reminder of last night still on her body. It is not a wholly bad feeling.

Beth drops her off at the library on her way to the scene of the accident but stops a bit off, in a secluded part of the way. Alison is thankful - she isn't ready to proclaim this to the world, not yet. She carries it inside of her like a precious gem, thrilled at the thought of having something that's all _hers_ and no one has opinions on.

They kiss goodbye and Alison gets out of the car, going to work in her fancy, pretty sundress.

  


She comes home in time for dinner, and naturally there are questions, a carefully blank expression on her father's face and a displeased tilt to her mother's mouth, but Alison remains tight-lipped about her night with Beth.

She has to tell them eventually, she knows, but not yet. Just the thought of Beth, of her smile, of how soft her skin felt beneath her hand, the feel of her body on top of her, is enough to send something fizzling like champagne through Alison's stomach and she wants to hold on to that feeling, wants it to remain unstained by frowns and disapproval for as long as it is possible.

"What about Donnie?" Mum finally asks.

"What about him?" Alison counters stiffly, deciding to put hard against hard. "It's been months."

"That poor boy is still pining for you," Mum says.

"You could do better," Dad says. He never cared for Donnie because Donnie doesn't like whiskey or hockey or fishing.

Beth like whiskey and hockey. Beth could probably be persuaded to go fishing. Beth is a cop.

Beth. Alison's hearts pounds just at the thought of her name, her eyes, her laughter.

"I know," she says.

  


The following days, the precinct is swamped with work, meaning the only contact Alison has with Beth is through text and the occasional late-night phone call. It is ridiculous, but Alison misses her. A lot. She cleans the entire house from attic to basement and fills the freezer with baked goods trying to distract herself.

Aynsley's bachelorette party is held Saturday and despite the fact that they barely have any contact with each other these days, Alison is invited and expected to go. She has bought a vase and decorated the wrapping with a home-made card.

"Don't look so glum - this could have been your bachelorette party," her mother says before they leave and Alison rolls her eyes at her back.

Aynsley hugs her warmly as she arrives and Alison returns it. They used to be best friends and the space where that friendship used to be is a hole in Alison's life, but she wonders if they will ever return to where they were. They're too different. _She_ is too different now.

They are served tea and sandwiches in the living room while Aynsley's mother holds a quiz about Aynsley and Chad's relationship. Alison knows all the answers and some more, answers carefully glossed over by a facade of perfection.

After tea, they are brought wine as Aynsley opens her gifts. Aynsley doesn't drink a drop and when she opens her mother's gift, its a set of tiny baby clothes.

"Mom! We weren't supposed to say anything yet!" Aynsley protests but she's smiling and proudly holding the baby clothing up for everyone to see.

Alison feels a heavy stab of jealousy deep in her gut.

"Hush, it's my first grandchild," Aynsley's mother says, beaming.

Congratulations and curious questions echo throughout the room. Aynsley is three months along, she tells them, which is perfect because it means she will still fit into her dress on the big day.

Three months. In six month's time Aynsley will have a baby.

Alison stares down into the polished hardwood floor and feels like crying.

  


The party ends early and Alison borrows her mother's car to drive into the city.

Beth looks surprised but happy as she opens the door to find Alison there. Her hair is put up in a messy bun, there are ink smudges on her fingers and she's clutching a cup of coffee in one hand.

"Didn't expect you tonight," Beth says.

"I hope I'm not disturbing you..."

"Never."

"May I come in?"

Beth reaches over the threshold and grabs the edge of Alison's jacket, pulls her in for a kiss. "Yes," she says and takes a step back.

Alison doesn't let her. She plasters herselfs against her front and kisses her, delves into her mouth and Beth says "Whoa," and puts down her cup before wrapping her arms around Alison to return the frenzied kiss.

The jacket drops to the floor and Alison rips her panty hose as she pulls them down, but she doesn't care, just shows her underwear down with them and keeps kissing Beth, like she is trying to lose herself in her mouth, in her touch and the taste of her.

She resists as Beth tries to move them in the direction of the bedroom, just backs up against the wall and grabs Beth's hand, shoves her fingers between her legs and into her. It burns, but all that matters is Beth, having her close, inside. She curls a leg around Beth's hip, licks into her mouth and mutters, "Fuck me. Please, just fuck me."

Beth does and Alison isn't quite sure if it feels good or not, just that she needs this, that every hard stroke of Beth's fingers anchor her somehow, makes her less viable to break apart. She pants heavily and thrusts her hips against Beth's hand, begging for more, for harder, faster...

Suddenly, Alison is bracing herself against the bureau in the hallway and Beth is a warm, comforting press against her back, holding her close, so close. She slides her fingers back inside, the change of angle causing Alison to moan, and keeps fucking her with fast, sure, full-body strokes. Her other hand finds its way to Alison's clitoris, rubbing it along with her thrusts.

Beth's lips drag over her neck, teeth tugging at the lobe of her ear. "Come on, baby," she says and her fingers hits just right, sends stars exploding behind Alison's eyelids and she staggers, cries out at the unbelievable pleasure surging through her.

Alison lets Beth lead her to her bedroom and pull the panty house and her underwear completely off. Alison pulls off the dress herself and then it seems silly keeping the bra so she loses that too.

"Do me a favour," Beth says as she tugs off her jeans as joins Alison in bed. "Never drive after you have been drinking again."

Alison touches her lips. She hadn't even realised.

Beth kisses her. "Okay? I like you and want you around."

And Alison begins to cry.

"Hey, baby, what's the matter?" Beth's hand stroke across her hair. "Ali?"

"A-a-aynsley getting married next m-month," Alison sobs. "And she'll ha-a-ave a baby in six."

"Okay," Beth says slowly.

"It would have been so simple, marrying Donnie," Alison says, but she thinks of all the pills, the drinking, the days she couldn't get a bite down, the numb greyness spreading throughout her life, infecting everything, and wonders if it's really true.

Next to her, Beth has grown still.

"Sorry," Alison says quickly.

"This has been going on for, like, a week," Beth says, "but I really do like you and I won't continue if this is some kind of... act of rebellion for you. I'm not some exciting adventure you can spend some time on until you're ready to settle for Donnie."

"That's not what I'm doing," Alison says. "I'm just... I'm not used to this."

Beth crooks an eyebrow. "Women?"

"Doing what _I_ want."

The look in Beth's eyes soften and she curls closer to Alison. "Me," she says with a grin and Alison rolls her eyes but smiles back.

The kiss they share lasts for many long minutes.

Then Alison pulls back and says decisively, "Let me bring you as my guest for Aynsley's wedding."

Beth's eyes flicker between both of Alison's. "Are you sure?"

Alison nods. She's terrified, but yes, she's sure. Right there and then, safe in Beth's bed, in her arms, she's sure. Perhaps it will be different in the morning or in a day or two, but that can be worked through another time.

She pecks Beth on the lips. "Come on," she says, moving out from under the duvet. "Borrow me a t-shirt and an apron and I'll show you how to bake bread."

There is some way to go, Alison thinks later when she looks at Beth's sorry excuse for a loaf while Beth is happily munching away at a slice of Alison's, but they'll get there eventually.

 

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on [tumblr](http://wariangle.tumblr.com/)!


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